“Earnest! It’s time for school!”

Earnest’s mother’s voice echoed up the stairway, under his pillow, and straight into his eardrums, dislodging him unceremoniously from his pleasant dream. He had been dreaming about school, ironically. Only instead of being an outcast, a nerd, a dork, he was the most popular kid in school. He dreamed that his plan had come to complete and successful friution and he was enjoying the oh-so-sweet sensation of being so popular that…

“EARNEST! SCHOOL!”

His mother’s strident call interrupted his musings once again, and before he knew it he was out of bed and flying into his clothes, down the stairs, and out the front door. Well, he tried flying down the stairs only metaphorically, but it ended up being quite literal as he stepped squarely on his mom’s bible that she had used to throw at his bedroom door in a misguided drunken fit the evening before. Evidently she had determined that he had peed all over her signed photograph of her and pop music star Shakira…but in actuality that had been HER that had mistaken the photo for the loo, during yet another drunken episode.

Finally making it out the door, he was once again making good time to the bus stop, until he tripped on a crack in the sidewalk as he was trying to pull on his backpack over his headgear. His mouthpiece caught on the strap, jerking his head back so that his glasses went flying, as did his feet, and he plowed face first into the concrete, just as the bus was creaking up to the curb. As he attempted to get himself disentangled from his backpack, it split open down the side and his cut carrots and butterscotch pudding cup rolled out of his pack. As he was gathering the split items of his sack lunch back into his pack, the bus doors started to slide shut. He could hear the jeers of the kids inside as he frantically scrambled to his feet and lurched toward the bus, cracked glasses clutched in one hand and nearly lost pocket protector in the other. The laughter of the other kids turned to boos as the bus driver took pity on him and reopened the door.

He went through the standard “let’s play the hide the seat from Earnest” game, finally locating one where the owner allowed him to perch one buttcheek on the seat as they bounced their way to the school. As his butt was uncomfortably jarred by the bus seat and he shifted all his weight to the semi-secure cheek, he ran through his strategy in his mind.

Following several weeks of intense study and investigation, Earnest had come up with a complicated six-part strategy that he was confident would net him a spot in the school’s upper echelons of popularity. Today was the first day of his plan; today, the first day of the rest of his life.

Earnest chewed on that thought for the rest of the way to school, lost in daydreams of hot girlfriends and wild parties.

Arriving at school, Earnest made his way through the hallways, narrowly avoiding three body to locker slams and two outstretched feet, but was brought up short by the old wedgie and dump into the garbage can. Getting out of the garbage can made him late for his first period class, but his spirit was undampened as he used the time to jot down his to-do list for the day.

After his in-depth study of the most popular kids on campus, Earnest had discovered a short list of several things that they all had in common:

• They all had older boyfriends or girlfriends.
• They all had perfectly matched, expensive clothing, even their socks matched!
• The guys could all kick ass.
• They all had cool names, like Jeff or Chad or Bling-Bling.
• They all played sports.
• They all could dance really well.

His list of popular attributes compiled, Earnest was ready to get started.

Firstly, he needed to change his name. Earnest was definitely not a popular name. He had been stuck on this phase for a long time, but he knew that it was essential to begin his transformation into The Most Popular Kid In School with an entirely new name to go with his soon-to-be new image.

In desperation, he had turned to Google. After amassing a list of possible names (Ugly Bitch, Dank-Ass Mint Flava, Janky Fish, Trip-n-Fall Retardo) he settled on the last and best – Masta Pud.

Today’s history teacher was a substitute. Masta Pud knew that this was the perfect opportunity to not only rebel against the system, but to put his new name into circulation. Soon it would be on everyone’s lips! He was enraptured with the thought.

Walking up to the substitute history teacher, he stuck out his hand and lisped, “whuth up, bitth? I’m a Masta Pud, mo nizzle for shizzler.” The teacher stared at him in shock as he wiped his hand on his jeans (to remove the spittle from his headgear) and turned on his heel and marched to his desk.

Things were going well. So well. On to phase two…The Fashionista.

Part Two | Part Three